#its like having a fever - like they are SICK

[meiluu]

Soft and Gentle

Zayne/ Reader(MC)

Zayne pushes himself too far, and you his valiant hunter the woman who he loves with ever fiber of his being is now fusing over his fever. Maybe being sick isn't all that bad... Not Edited

Having just sat down on his couch, Zayne lets out an exhausted sigh fingers reaching up to take of his tie. Head pounding, he throws an arm over his eyes as he lays down onto the soft cushions. And from there he slips into a much needed nap. Though it seems like it only last for but a moment when he is woken up but gentle fingers cupping the side of his jaw. A familiar voice rings through his head, its you. It takes him much longer to come to his sense than usual and when he finally comes to he can hear the worry within your voice, "Zayne you're really warm, do you feel okay?"

Slowly rising from the couch, he brushes your hands away. "I'm probably just tired." Zayne moves to get up from the couch only to halt in his motions when he sees your angry pout. "Nope you sit right there, I'm getting the thermometer if you aren't running a fever I'll let you get up." And with that you quickly turn towards the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, Zayne wants to insist that he truly is fine but he feels so weak and tired that he just sinks right back into the couch. A few moments pass before he feels your hands upon him again and your muffled words. "You're running a fever Zayne." He can picture the sad pout upon your face, opening on of his eyes he finds that to be true. "come on lets get you cleaned up and in bed as soon as possible."

And with those words you are leading him into your shared bathroom, leaving only to come back with a clean pair of pajamas for the both of you. Turning on the tub you let it fill before you help Zayne to take off his clothes. Although any other time you would be flushed from head to toe at your daring moves, but now in its place is a level of intimacy that only you can share with each other. Finally free from his work clothes and in the tub you help him to wash his body and hair. Fingers gently massaging into his scalp, letting the cool water rinse him of the soap while also hopefully quelling some of his fever.

Smelling no longer of antiseptic and papers instead smelling like his favorite soap that has a soft fragrance of jasmine flowers. Grabbing a fluffy white towel you help to quickly dry off Zayne, letting him brush his teeth while you hand him his clothes. With him finally dressed, he heads towards the bedroom sinking heavily into the plush comforter and mattress. Mind drifting off as the sound of you taking a shower lulls him into near unconsciousness. Zayne is again woken up by your familiar hands on his face, "Take this it'll bring down your fever." a quietness falls around you both after Zayne swallows the pills, one that it broken with his tired voice. "I'm sorry." there's a barely noticeable pout upon his lips.

"Zayne there' no need to apologize, everyone gets sick."

"I just-" he lets out a sigh before continuing, "I'm not used to being taken care of like this, the last time was when I was a child."

a soft bout of laughter leaves you, "Zayne I will always be here to take care of you especially when you are sick, just like how you always care for me when I'm hurt or sick. You don't need to go this on your own anymore, you have me now." You reach your hand up, carding through his soft onyx hair. Zayne reaches a scarred hand up to yours cradling it to his face, then bringing it down to his lip to give your palm a chaste but loving kiss. "Thank you, my love"

a.n. I may or may not of had a very vivid dream about helping Zayne while he was sick... (also I've been playing this game for over a year now and I am so in love with it, all the characters hold a special place in my heart. Will definitely be writing for all the boys in the future, I actually have a few ideas I'm writing at the moment.) hopefully you guys like this little drabble :)

...sorry about not posting in literally 6 months, college has been crazy and I've been having the worst writing funk. But I am slowly getting back into my normal rhythm and have begun writing again!

[kawoala]

howdy!!!! i’d like to place my order at meeyas diner.

mm, for a burger, could I get haikyuu + kuroo tetsuro? (surprise)

sides, hm… could I get something silly and sweet, like curling up on the couch, brushing teeth together, etc??? just domestic shenanigans.

for a drink, i’d like roommates to lovers, if it’s in stock. also, could I get that traditional? thanks! mwah mwah (also this event is sooo freaking cute btw)

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE; kuroo tetsuro. burger—haikyuu. drink—roommates to lovers.

contents word count ; 855. sickfic. howl’s moving castle mentioned. kuroo is a good friend. also yaku + kenma mentioned.

authors notes LOVE ME A GOOD SICKFIC!! idk if i made kuroo like. accurate but i tried my hardest!! i was going to include a confession at first, but it kind of just went the it went yk? had a mind of its own.

KUROO TETSURO is nothing if not a good person. you’ve only known him for about two years, lived with him for even less, and yet you know that he’s a good person.

he’s the kind of friend to show up at your job with a bento full of your favorite food, the practice excuse of i was nearby rolling off his tongue easily. yaku had been having a hard time adjusting to his new university team, and kuroo really wanted him to make some friends, so he made enough for yaku to share.

he’s also the kind of friend to show up to your apartment unannounced, groceries in hand, ready to make dinner. kenma had been doing his annual 24-hour stream and kuroo noticed he was strictly eating ramen. you’d been creeping on the comment as kuroo was cooking, and they were filled with feral teenage girls talking about how good his forearms looked with his sleeves rolled up.

and, thankfully, he’s the kind of friend to call off work the second he notices you’re sick—even if you beg him not to. today, his counter argument was, “i don’t even wanna go to work, though. plus, i think i’m getting a little warm. feel my forehead; do i have a fever? oh god, i can feel it settling in, y/n. death, knocking at my door.”

and then he flopped down on you, draping his arm over his eyes in a dramatic gesture. 

so, now, you’re here; curled up on the couch, shared blanket pulled up to your chin, howl’s moving castle playing on the TV. kuroo sits beside you, work clothes long gone, replaced by his favorite hoodie and a pair of sweats. early, you’d briefly wondered how he could look good even in clothes like that, but shook the thought away quickly.

you can not be thinking of your roommate like that.

an empty bowl that once had soup in it sits abandoned on the coffee table, along with two mugs of tea. you didn’t want him to stay home at first, but after getting special treatment, you’re glad he did. 

you haven’t been watching the movie for long. sophie is just now meeting howl again, a scene that didn’t make sense to you the first time you watched it, but did after watching it again. you glance over at kuroo again—you’ve tried to stop, but can’t—and notice his brows are furrowed.

you nudge him with your foot until he looks over, face relaxing into a small smile. you tilt your head. “why do you look so confused?” you ask, voice raspy and thick with sickness.

he glances at the TV, then back at you. “why did howl do that? like, pretend to be sophie’s boyfriend or husband, or whatever?” he gestures vaguely with his hand. “couldn’t he have just been, like, ‘hey, stop messing with that girl,’ or something?”

“what? no, of course not. that scene practically makes the whole movie. haven’t you ever watched this before?” it’s your turn to furrow your brows.

he simply shakes his head and your jaw drops. you sit up properly now, blanket falling off the too half of your torso. “what? what are you talking about?” he awkwardly looks to the side. “you’ve never watched this? howl’s moving castle—never watched it?”

again, he shakes his head. “never,” he confirms. “i’ve heard of it, because of you, but i’ve never had the chance to watch it.” he pauses, then smirks and shrugs. “too much big boy work to do, i guess.”

you narrow your eyes for a moment, then playfully roll them. you settle back into your spot again, adjusting the blanket once more, and sigh. “that was sexist. also, i watched it when i was a kid.”

“hey, that was not sexist, c’mon.” you can tell he’s trying to get your attention again—he always sounds the same when trying to get someones attention. “hello-o-o,” he sings out, leaning closer to you.

you still don’t answer him, opting to stare at the screen of the TV. you’re not really paying attention to it, but you hope you at least look like you are.

the couch dips right beside you and kuroo is suddenly hovering over you, staring at the side of your face. “i want being sexist,” he says. “i love women.”

“oh, please.” you almost snort. “you haven’t been on a date for, like, four months.”

all you get is a hum in response. he plops back down with a sigh and you keep your eyes on the TV. after a beat of silence, you look over at him.

“hey.” again, you nudge him with your foot. “thanks for staying home today. and making food for me. i really appreciate you.”

for a solid second, the look in his eyes is unreadable. usually, you can tell what he’s thinking like he’s speaking into your mind himself—it’s been that way since you first moved in together. something just clicked between you two. but now, you can’t tell.

“yeah, whatever.” he laughs and shoves your legs away playfully, not bothering to fight the smile on his face.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 5: Not Trusting Reality (Sky & Four)

When I asked which boy you all would like to see a sick fic for almost everyone said Sky or Four. So I'm picking on both XD

Read on Ao3

CW for hallucinations, vomiting, and the general creepiness of the Silent Realm

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Sky stumbles forward along a road he cannot see. The sound of his own ragged breathing echoes in his ears. His throat prickles with pain. To inhale is agony, swallowing even more so. 

All day, flashes of fever have plagued him. But now he shudders so violently he fears his chattering teeth will snap off the tip of his tongue. 

Failing feet catch on what must be a raised root. His vision is too blurred to verify his guess. He tenses, catches himself moments before his knees give way. But he pays dearly for the swift save. 

His head has throbbed since last night. Now, that excruciating pound overcomes him. He breathes it, smells it, sees it. Blood pulses behind his eyes so fiercely he nearly cries from the force of it. A war drum shouting a warning. 

His stomach somersaults. Sky closes his eyes, forces a breath through clogged nostrils. 

Keep going. Keep walking.

One foot in front of the other. 

He cannot stop. Four will die if he does. 

The smithy lies pale and broken and motionless in his arms. If Sky did not know better he would think his spirit had already ascended to the Sacred Realm, leaving him to embrace a cold corpse. He does know better though.

…he does. 

He glances down again, catches sight of the slightest rise of Four’s small chest, the slightest fall. Just to make sure. 

Blood blossoms across his abdomen, autumn leaves lain gorily across a dusty path. 

Has he bled more since I checked last?

Sky frowns. The wound has been large since a wildly swinging, double-wielding stalfos dealt the blow. But to the question his fatigued mind poses, he lacks an answer. 

Little good it will do him either way. He offered the last of his potion to the smithy an eternity ago, and an eternity ago, the smithy had expelled its contents onto the soft earth. He has drifted in unconsciousness ever since.

Their only salvation now is to find the others.

Once more, Sky lifts his eyes to the heavens. The sunlight sears his irises. The clouds dance about a sea of cerulean. He swears that in their jovial gallivanting, they giggle giddily at his misfortune. 

He grits his teeth and walks forward. 

Hours drag by that may very well be minutes. Seconds feel like years. 

More roots rise to drag his feet from beneath him. Stray pebbles skitter out of his way. Damp piles of leaves turn the undersides of his boots slick. He slips, stops his fall with an outstretched hand pressed to a hefty oak. The tiny birds nestled in its branches loudly chastise his clumsiness. 

His throat grows drier. There is a fire within it now. It clashes with the ice in his heart, a battle of heat and cold that seeks to bring him to the ground. The earth dips and sways like the deck of the ship. He half expects great tentacles to erupt from it and grasp his body, hurl him into the sun where he will burn up into a million tiny flecks of ash. 

Sky shudders and his head screeches its protests at the motion. He moves and nausea roils so dreadfully in his gut that it takes his breath away. Footsteps whisper behind him. Voices murmur ahead. More than once, he breaks into a stumbling run, thinking that his brothers have finally come.

They never do.  

Something else arrives instead. 

It unfurls itself over the space like the massive crackling legs of a lounging skulltula. Sky looks up. His blood turns to ice.

The heavens no longer burn his aching eyes. Now, they are covered by a fog of filmy turquoise that smothers the glory of the sun. Drifting dots of pearly white pass him, suspended in the air. The soft chime of distant bells filters through the rush of pain and blood that has filled his ears thus far.

Sky stands frozen. His heart flutters madly in his chest. His head feels weightless, light. Too light to keep his leaden body afloat. 

To fall is a death sentence. To move is a plunge into an open grave. 

There are no blossoms of spirit nestled amongst the trees or the mossy ground they reside in. There is no salvation here.

Tears burn at the edges of his sight. They smear the various colors into one, messy hue of blue. 

Why? Why now?

“S-Sky?”

Four’s eyes flutter open. Kaleidoscope colors are unnaturally vibrant. Dark pupils are mismatched. Cracked, bloodied lips part as he gazes blearily at something just over Sky’s left shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, words bumping into one another in their effort to escape. “Is there another attack? I can help. I’ll fight.”

Sky shakes his head. Speech is something he dares not attempt now. The burn in his throat makes him ill.

But there is no fighting here. This is a battle they cannot win. 

There is only flight.

Keep going. Move forward. 

He drags in a wavering breath. He will not be late again. He will not sit here while Four suffocates on his own blood. He will not watch through hazy vision as his brother breathes his last.

Sky takes a step forward. The world screams. A clock ticks down, a siren blaring oncoming doom.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The pound of booted feet sets the ground quaking. Wildly, he searches for the gleam of silver-white armor, the glow of eyes, piercing and soulless. 

He sees no one and nothing. But still, feverish hues sting. Still, crimson drips like torrents of blood. And the seconds screech.

One, two, three, four…

Sky breaks into a run.

Four cries out at the jostling. The sound is weak, a mouse tread upon by an oblivious foot. 

“Sky…” He gasps the name. White knuckles fist in Sky’s tunic, in his sailcloth. “What?”

Again, Sky shakes his head.

His breath comes sharp, haggard, choking through a throat pulled tight. His body aches. His bones feel as though someone has reached deep within and snapped them one by one, set the marrow aflame. The beat of his heart fills his head near to bursting. Tears pool anew within the eyes he struggles to keep open. Shivers run rampant down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stand aloft. 

Panic blurs thoughts already scattered. 

I’m sorry.

He can’t see anything, feels nothing but terror. The shink of sharpening blades is near to his throat. Any moment now they will strike. 

Any moment…

His knees give way. With a shout of fear and pain, he goes down. Four tumbles from his arms with a cry and goes limp once more. Sky falls into the leaves and dirt, iron on his tongue, agony in his heart.

For a moment, he lies stunned. Then, the panic returns with vengeful fervor and he shoves himself up. The Master Sword slips from her sheath with a distant murmur. Trembling hands caked with blood and dirt hold her aloft.

He sees them now, the Guardians that come for him, for Four. In a group of seven they arrive, beasts looming out of the gathering mist. 

Already, he is failing. Failing the hero that he could not keep ahold of. Failing the brothers he has tried so hard to return to. Yet, still he will fight. 

He does not know whether Guardians fall to the sacred blade. He has never had the chance to see. All he has now is hope. And that can be a flimsy thing.

“Sky.” One of them puts out a hand, raises its blade. “Put down the sword. It’s just us.”

“You’re safe,” says another, with claymore raised high. “Please, Sky.”

Sky lists sideways, takes a clumsy swing. His palms burn. The blade collides with something metallic, glances off. He pulls back and stretches his arm upward. 

Lightning sears his hands. The sun devours him. Ice pierces his heart.

“Watch out!” Someone shouts as the projectile of pure light soars forth. 

The Guardians scatter. And in the next instant, something slams into him from the side. 

Sky hits the ground and sees stars. Arms wrap around him, tightening when he fights. A voice rumbles like thunder in the distance. 

A voice so familiar that it aches.

“Sky, Sky, it’s alright.” 

Blurred vision clears just enough that he can make out the glint of an armor plate, the distant faces of people he knows.

He sucks in air and feels like he is suffocating regardless. A sob rises in his throat.

This isn’t real. It can’t be. But, oh does he want it to be. He yearns for it in his very bones.

“W-Warriors?” Sky’s voice is little more than a croak and it is agony to allow it to break free. 

“Shh.” A hand cups the back of his head, gentle, firm. “I’m here. Don’t speak. We’ve got you.”

“Four…” Tears roll down his cheeks. Heavy eyelids lower at last to protect his stinging eyes. He clings to this phantom with strong arms and a warm embrace. He clings to this vision for fear that it will break. “Hurt…gotta save him. Couldn’t save him. Sorry. So sorry. Please.”

“It’s alright,” comes Warriors’ voice again. “He’ll be alright. You both will. You did well, Sky.”

He chokes on a cry. Sky hides his face in the tunic and sobs until he is certain his throat will simply shatter, his head explode. And when unconsciousness comes at last, it is heralded by the sugary soft embrace of a fairy’s touch, the sweet melody of a murmured song. 

If this is a dream, he thinks as darkness covers him like a silken duvet, he prays that he will never wake from it.

[sickskz]

One step too far

Synopsis/intro: After over a week of bedrest due to having the flu, Hyunjin is beyond ready to get back on stage. Desperate to make up for his lost time, he pushes his body beyond its limits on his first performance back. What starts off as exhaustion and sore muscles the next day quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. Luckily, his members are looking out for him.

A.k.a the fic where Hyunjin gets rhabdo

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caretaker/s: mainly a mix of Changbin, Felix, Han and Chris

____________________________________________

Hyunjin had always been one for theatrics, there was no denying that. Call him a drama queen, he holds the title with pride. However, saying that when he woke up this morning, his body felt like someone had tried to repurpose it by throwing him in a volcano and have him spat back out… That honestly wasn’t even an exaggeration. 

Every single cell in his body felt like it was screaming at him, set aflame and burning up from within. Opening his eyes was like peeling open an old, rusty lock. He didn’t know how he could possibly be able to move at all.

Yesterday was the first concert Hyunjin had been able to perform in a couple of weeks. He’d been put on a small leave due to having the flu, but yesterday he had finally been declared as ‘healthy’ and fit to perform again.

As one then does, he gave a little extra for the stays, jacking up his energy to 110% for each and every song.

Being back on the stage had been so incredibly liberating, it really had him wondering how he could ever survive without it. 

He had been sore before, of course, all the time, but nothing like this. Ever. Not even the flu had his body aching as much it did right now. 

Hyunjin almost felt like crying. In fact, judging by the dampness on his face, he might have cried already in his sleep. Or maybe it was just sweat. Either way, they both told the same story. He was in pain. 

He inhaled a shuddering breath, wincing when his chest expanded and stretched his tender muscles. He peeked over to the bed at the other side of the room. Empty. Changbin was up. The clock was in his peripheral, so a small shift told him all he needed to know. It was 10am… and no one had woken him up yet? Strange. 

Hyunjin struggled to roll on his side so he could prop himself up to sit, body protesting his every move and his stomach churning from the strain. He gulped. 

The change in posture caused the room before him to tilt violently, nausea crashing over him as his vision dimmed at the edges. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would help, but it only made him feel like he was spinning even more. He tried to hold on to his mattress to steady himself, but pain lanced through his body sharply, stealing the air from his lungs. 

“Shi..” he lurched forward just in time as a mouthful of bile shot up his throat, splashing on the floor and only partially into the trash can in between the two beds. He desperately grabbed hold of it as a second wave came over him, retching loudly as vomit scratched up his throat. He could still not see straight, so dizzy that for a moment, he was worried he was going to faint. 

How the hell had he gotten sick again? He had just recovered.. he thought immunity was a thing. Maybe he hadn’t actually been all clear before performing again? Maybe this was the punishment his body gave him for not waiting long enough.. 

He couldn’t make sense of it…

He had felt pretty good yesterday, great even, and he hadn’t had a fever in days. 

Now, Hyunjin had never mastered being quiet when throwing up, even with his stomach as empty as it was now. He was loud, and as he heaved and retched unproductively, footsteps could be heard thundering down the hall.

The door slammed open, showing Changbin in the doorway with a wide-eyed expression that quickly morphed into one of concern. 

“Hyun—… aish” the rapper scurried over, briefly looking over the small mess before sitting down beside his dongsaeng on the bed. 

He put a hand on his back to comfort him, but Hyunjin cried out in pain at the touch, a mix between a gag and a sob leaving his mouth. Changbin freezed, pulling his hand back and letting it hover uncertainly over Hyunjins sweat drenched t-shirt. He didn’t feel particularly hot, like he had a fever, but every other symptom seemed quite clear.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hey..” Changbin tried to keep his composure, immediately losing track of what to do if he couldn’t provide any physical comfort. He was usually good at that when it came to Hyunjin. “It’s okay, hey, it’s okay, try to breathe” he settled for that, moving his hands to hold onto his own thighs. Resisting the urge to reach out, hug him, anything to console him. 

Hyunjin gasped for air, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to will his body to listen. Changbins hand felt like it was made of prickly needles when it landed against his back, digging into his skin and causing electric shocks of pain all through him. 

However, his presence did help, and Hyunjin could feel himself start to calm down and follow his hyungs guidance.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but after a while he finally managed to breathe a little easier.

“Are you done?”

Hyunjin nodded reluctantly, letting Changbin pry the trash can from his hands and setting it aside to deal with later. 

“You poor thing” Changbin cooed in sympathy. “have you gotten yourself sick again? I.. I’m sorry I touched your back, does it hurt?” The rappers eyes glistened with guilt and Hyunjin wanted to punch him for being so annoyingly sweet and kind. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know touching his back would make it feel like he was ripping a knife through his muscle fibers. Hell, that even caught Hyunjin himself by surprise. He had never felt anything like that before. 

“I..” Hyunjin swallowed thickly, then exhaled shakily “I don’t know. I just woke up feeling like… like I’ve been run over by a truck a couple times” as if on cue, his right calf suddenly cramped up, making him double over himself with a hiss. 

Changbin frowned, stopping himself before he instinctively went to hold on to the other to support him. “Did you go too hard last night? I mean, you certainly made an awesome show, but..” he trailed off, as if a thought just crossed his mind. “Do you want me to bring some ice packs? Maybe it can help ease the soreness a little.” 

Hyunjin didn’t want to be alone, not now. He was still too dizzy. “No, please don’t leave” he answered quickly, tears brimming in his eyes and lips wobbly. Changbins expression softened, and he smiled gently. 

“Okay..” Changbin sighed and Hyunjin sniffled helplessly. “Can I touch you? I just want to feel if you have a fever.” the rapper said earnestly, earning a small nod from the younger. 

Changbin’s hand didn’t feel like needles this time. In fact, it was a gentle warmth that ever so lightly caressed his forehead. Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Hm, you don’t feel warm.. I think you may just have really overworked your body, Hyunjinnie” Changbin commented, fully immersed in his nurse role. “I can ask if one of the others can come by with some ice packs then, is that okay?” 

“Yes-” Hyunjin didn’t even hesitate. “Please.”

He didnt feel warm, according to Changbin, but he wholeheartedly disagreed. He felt like he was burning, pain searing through his bones relentlessly. Icing himself down seemed like the only possible way to relief. 

“Alright-” Changbin finally glanced at the bedsheets Hyunjin had been sleeping on. A dark patch in the shape of a human was visible in the center of his bed. “I.. I think we better get your sheets changed.. and get you into some fresh clothes too, don’t you think?” The rapper swiped a drop of sweat off Hyunjins forehead. “Do you think you can stand?”

Hyunjin thought for a moment, eyes squinting, then shrugged halfway- not really able to bring his shoulders into it. “Dunno.”

Changbin seemed conflicted, brows drawn together in deep consideration and his lips pursed. “Okay.. uh, how about you support yourself on me, I don’t have to touch you if it hurts.. or.. what do you think?” He pushed himself to stand up from the bed, holding out a muscular arm so Hyunjin could cling onto his bicep.

Hyunjin had a countdown in his head before standing up with all the might he could muster. His legs were like jello beneath him, but he managed to stand wobbly, latching himself onto Changbins arm. The pain was worst in his back and legs, as well as deep in his abdomen and torso. His arms were tolerable in comparison, though they too felt unusually heavy. 

He took one small shuffle of a step, and though his knees buckled slightly, he was able to stay up by holding onto Changbins steady form. “Okay, let’s go” 

They must’ve looked like a nurse walking his 97 year old patient through the corridors of the nursing home, the way Changbin patiently supported a frail, hunched over Hyunjin- who walked about as fast as a snail. 

Every step burned, he struggled to lift his feet off the ground, but when he finally was able to settle on the couch, it was all worth it. 

Changbin had grabbed a clean T-shirt, pyjama pants and a pair of socks for him when they were on their way out of the bedroom, and still managed to send a text regarding ice packs.

Hyunjin hadn’t really realised he was squeezing his eyes shut again when he was sat down on the couch, until he opened them to see Jeongin staring at him from the couch opposite of him. His expression was sceptical, his eyes scanning Hyunjin like he was some sort of chemical weapon. Did he look that bad? 

“You good?” Was all their maknae had to offer. 

You good? Hyunjin clicked his tongue quietly. No, he was not fucking GOOD. He was awful, actually.

In fact, he wondered if the youngest would comply if he asked him to strangle him with a couch cushion to put him out of his misery. Right then and there.

“Yeah..” Hyunjin managed, forcing a small smile as Changbin put out the fresh clothes for him. “‘Just… must’ve overdid it last night, I guess” he chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain it caused around his rib cage. 

“Ah.” Jeongin nodded, shrugging his shoulders and returning to whatever it was he was watching on his phone. Hyunjin probably would have been offended by his disinterest if it wasn’t for the fact that he still was in agony. 

“Lift your arms up.” Changbin ordered softly, and Hyunjin obliged to the best of his ability. He got them a little over halfway up before reaching a dead end in his shoulder joints, and his arms quivered so much it almost looked like he was shaking them purposefully. A strange, new choreography, perhaps. 

Luckily, Changbin was swift and managed to both strip him of his sweaty shirt and replace it with a clean one before his arms collapsed back down against his sides. He went to try and help him with his pyjama pants, but that took an awful lot of effort. For them both. 

Hyunjin, as if he was a severely injured patient, clung onto Changbin over his shoulder as the older managed to undress and dress him without bending or hurting his legs too much. There was no way he hadn’t done that before. Changbin moved like a professional. 

Once fully clothed in dry clothes, Hyunjin carefully slid down to lay on his side. Changbin lifted his throbbing legs onto the couch for him, then helped him get a pillow under his neck for support. “Better?” The rapper asked, crouching down and looking at him with a kind smile. 

Hyunjin managed a small smile of his own, despite the tears still stinging at the corner of his eyes. He watched on as Changbin lifted his strong hand and ever so gently wiped a droplet from the edge of his eyelashes. His heart ached with emotion, making his breath hitch. “Thank you, binnie..”

__________________________________

Lee know arrived in the common room shortly after with three ice packs wrapped neatly in towels. An art he had performed many times. 

“Injured? Sick?” He asked shortly, handing the packs to Changbin, who was now sitting carefully next to where Hyunjin had his head propped up and supported by pillows. He had also gotten a pillow to support between his legs, one behind his back, and one that he was hugging to his chest. 

Even with his eyes closed, Hyunjin could feel the unsure shrug Changbin responded with. “Don’t really know. He doesn’t feel feverish, but his body aches like crazy..” 

Hyunjin let out a small, appreciative hum when he felt the first chilled bundle carefully press to the back of his neck. Another one was soon placed gingerly against his back, held in place thanks to the pillow. 

“Lee Know, can you place the last one of his legs? Seemed like they hurt a lot.” Changbin spoke rather quietly, probably assuming Hyunjin was asleep. It wasn’t far from the truth. Despite having slept in, Hyunjin felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Can’t he do it himself? He’s not asleep.” Lee Know said in a teasing voice, and Hyunjin squinted his eyes open to glare at him.

As he stubbornly went to reach his arm out for the last ice pack, Hyunjin froze with a wince as the burning slashed across his back and down his legs. 

“Agh-!” His hand fell back to dig into the pillow he’d been cradling to his chest, and the younger curled in on himself as he tried to breathe through the cramps. Short, sharp breaths. 

“Woah, hey, don’t…. Jesus..” Lee know seemed unsure of what to say, unsure of what to make of the situation. Hyunjin wasn’t too sure himself. “Uh, I was just poking some fun, sorry...” he sounded genuine enough. 

Hyunjin could feel the cooling of the pack against his calf, and inhaled shakily before opening his eyes again. “It’s fine.” he spoke through gritted teeth, his eyebrows pinched. It wasn’t fine, and he could sense Changbin and Lee Know having a silent conversation between the two of them. Hyunjin was too tired to be bothered with what it was about. 

Changbin carefully swiped some sweaty strands of hair from Hyunjin’s face. “Actually.” he cleared his throat, as if the mouthing silent words to Lee Know a second ago somehow had messed with his vocal cords. “Lee Know, could you grab a thermometer as well? I just wanna make sure..” 

“Sure.” Lee know nodded, awkwardly turning on his feet and heading towards the nearest bathroom. 

He returned a moment later with a thermometer in hand, and Changbin thanked him before preparing it for use. 

“Alright, can you open your mouth for me?” Changbin said gently, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but furrow his brows as he was spoken to like a child. He wanted to retort with something along the lines of ‘I don’t know, can I?’ Or ‘why don’t you make me?’, but he resorted to simply complying in silence. 

The cool metal tip from the thermometer nested safely under his tongue, and after a few seconds, it beeped. Changbin pulled it back to read off the tiny screen, face contorted in concentration. 

“Hm.”

“Hm?” Hyunjin urged, struggling to keep himself awake for any longer than he needed. 

“36.8°C (98.2°F), no fever..” Changbin said with a hum, placing the thermometer on the table. That’s good, Hyunjin guessed. Didn’t explain anything though. Maybe it really was just overexertion..

“Hyunjinnie, should I ask if Felix to come by with some pain relief patches?” Changbin asked softly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Hyunjins pitiful form. 

Hyunjin thought about it briefly. While he didn’t want to cause Felix any trouble, he was in such desperate need of relief that there was no way he could turn it down.  

“Yes, please.”

_______________________________

12pm

Hyunjin had fallen asleep again. 

When he woke up, it was thanks to the sound of Changbin and Han laughing in unison. They could very well be at the very other end of the house, as far as he knew, considering how loud they could be. He heard them either way. 

Hyunjin groaned, the pain welcoming him back to consciousness. First then was he alerted to the fact that, although it was quite obviously not Changbin anymore, someone was sitting beside him.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Felix’s voice was soft, and he leaned forward to peer down at Hyunjins face with a toothy smile. “Heard you weren’t feeling the best.”

Hyunjin tried to return the smile, genuinely happy that out of everyone else, Felix was the one sitting by him. “Feeeeelix~” Hyunjin drawled, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It wasn’t very effective.

“How are you feeling?” Felix mused softly. The sunlight behind him almost gave him the illusion of a halo, like he was truly something otherworldly. An angel sent to Hyunjin in his moment of suffering.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, his lips forming a small pout. “Exhausted.” he muttered, his voice tinged with defeat. “I don’t get it.. I was finally feeling okay yesterday, but now… I think my body hates me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sore.” His tone was petulant, almost childlike, but Felix understood. Hyunjin was upset, and rightfully so.

Felix ran his fingers through his hair, carefully untangling the salty strands that had clumped together earlier. “Yeah?” Hyunjin watched as the other’s eyebrows knit together in thought, though his lips still held a small smile. “Do you think you could describe it a little more ? I just want to understand what you’re feeling. Maybe I can help.”

Hyunjin blinked groggily, trying to piece together the words that could best describe what he was feeling. “It’s… hard to explain.” he admitted, his voice small. “It feels like my muscles are… burning. When I-I move, it feels like they’re tearing-“ he took a break to allow himself some less strained breaths, before continuing. “Even breathing, it feels like someone’s pulling at my ribs.. and my legs… gah, they just keep cramping up all the time, so so bad...” he couldn’t help the small, petulant half-sob that slipped past his lips, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I-I just don’t understand why everything hurts so much..”

Felix nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he listened. His heart ached at the sight of Hyunjin being so miserable and unlike his usual self. “Okay, it’s okay~” he soothed, soft fingers ever so tenderly brushing across Hyunjins cheek. 

“That sounds awful, Hyunjin-ah… I’m sorry.” Felix murmured, voice heavy with care. “You really pushed yourself way too hard, didn’t you?” He paused, his expression softening. 

“I… I really do think the best thing right now is for you to rest. Let your body recover, okay? And I’ll see if I can find something to help with the cramps..”

Hyunjin nodded weakly, his eyelids already slipping. The effort of talking had drained him again. “Okay.” he whispered, curling a little tighter around the pillow pressed to his chest. “Thank you, ‘Lix.”

Felix leaned down to tuck the blanket more securely around him, his hands ever so agile and light. “Of course. Just try to sleep, Hyunjin. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was soft, comforting enough that Hyunjin’s breathing soon evened out and he drifted off yet again. 

Once Felix was sure Hyunjin was asleep, he stood up quietly, trying not to disturb him. He made his way to the kitchen, hoping that a warm meal might help his friend recover faster.

When he entered the room, he found that Chan already there, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. The leader was scrolling through something on his phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. At the sound of Felix’s footsteps, he looked up and offered a small smile.

“Hey, Lix. You alright?” Chan asked, setting his phone down. His sharp eyes immediately picked up on Felix’s slightly frazzled state. 

Felix hesitated for a moment before nodding half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s Hyunjin I’m worried about.” He moved to the stove, pulling out a pot and setting it on the burner. 

Chan’s expression darkened at the mention of Hyunjin’s name. “What’s going on?” he asked, pushing away from the counter and setting his mug down. 

As Felix began chopping some vegetables with methodical precision, he relayed everything Hyunjin had told him to Chan. His voice was steady, but the worry in his eyes was unmistakable.

Chan listened without interruption.

“-I don’t know, Chris, he really doesn’t look too good.” Felix insisted with a sigh, stretching his arms up above his head to try and ease the tension in his shoulders. “The way he described his pain, I…. I can tell something is wrong, I just can´t figure out what.. If he’s not better in a few hours, we have to contact someone. A doctor, a nurse, just someone who knows what they’re doing.”

It was more a conclusion than a suggestion, but Chan couldn’t say that he would’ve disagreed either way. He had listened intently as Felix summed up Hyunjins state, pale, sweaty, and face scrunched in pain even in his sleep. Like Felix, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this than the dancer just having overworked himself.

“I agree.“ Chan said softly, a sigh escaping his lips as he mindlessly peered out the window. “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him, yeah? If anything changes for the worse, we know what we need to do.” The oldest watched Felix stir around in the pot, noticing that he had grown quiet, lost in thought. 

“Speaking of, is he alone right now?“ Chan asked, breaking Felix out of his spiralling mind. 

Felix shook his head, his voice low. “He was still fast asleep when I left about 15 minutes ago. Han and Changbin are hanging out in the next room, keeping an ear out in case they hear anything.”

________________________________________

2pm

Roughly one and a half hour had passed, and while Hyunjin had hoped and prayed he would be getting better with time and rest, things were only taking a turn for the worse. 

When he woke up from his nap, his body was covered in a new layer of cold sweat, relentless shivers running through his body. He didn’t feel the same, sharp pain he’d felt earlier, but the dull ache in his body lingered, only faded because he felt too dazed to fully grasp it.

“Felix…?” Hyunjin called out, his voice barely carrying into the room and filled with an aching need for reassurance. He felt awfully strange, like he was no longer in his own body, his own voice sounded like an echo. 

His chest felt jittery, his heart drumming erratically against his ribs. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and it made it a little harder to catch his breath.

A head popped around the corner just a moment later, but it wasn’t Felix. 

“Hey, pretty boy~” Han said with a soft smile, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in the sight of Hyunjin’s trembling form. A particularly harsh shiver ran through him, covering his skin in goosebumps from head to toe.

“You need anything? Felix just went to make some food for you guys.” Jisungs voice was gentle, though the uncertainty in his tone was clear as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning Hyunjin’s pale face, taking in the cold sweat and unsteady shivers. His expression softened further, worry fully replacing any teasing edge.

Hyunjin couldn’t hold himself together anymore. The tears that had been welling in his eyes finally spilled over, streaking down his pale skin as his body shuddered beneath the blankets.

“I-I really don’t feel good…” Hyunjin’s voice was barely above a whisper, his words trembling just as much as his body.

Han’s heart ached at the sight. He gently placed a hand on Hyunjin’s forehead, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from his skin. “Sh-..You’re burning up.” he murmured, his voice laced with worry. “I thought Changbin-hyung said you didn’t have a fever…“

Hyunjin’s sobs came out in small, pitiful gasps, the salty tears soaking into the pillow below him. The fever had drained him, leaving him a shell of his usual self. Weak, feverish, and utterly vulnerable. He gripped onto the others boys hand desperately, like it was some sort of lifeline.

“Awh, Hyunjin-ah, It’s okay, it’s okay.“ With his free hand, Han attempted to wipe away the tears, his fingers tenderly brushing the damp strands of hair from Hyunjin’s pallid face. Every touch was an attempt to soothe, to comfort him in any way possible. 

Then, the rapper fumbled for his phone, dialing Felix’s number in a hurry, his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest.

Thankfully, Felix answered on the second ring. “Lix, it’s Hyunjin. Something’s wrong.” Jisung’s voice was strained with worry, but he didn’t need to say more.

Felix didn’t respond; he simply ended the call. But the sudden sound of hurried footsteps, echoing from the kitchen, was all the reassurance Jisung needed. 

“It huuuurts..” Hyunjin wailed miserably, voice cracking with the strain of the sobs wracking his body. 

Felix and Chan both came jogging into the living room, quickly assessing the situation and stepping up behind Jisung with big eyes. 

“Shhh, what hurts, baby? What hurts?” Jisung eased himself off the couch to sit on the ground beside him, never once letting go on Hyunjins clammy hand. He didn’t know what else to do, looking at Felix and Chan with a desperate look in his eyes. 

“M-my legs, my-my l-legs…" Hyunjin chanted in gasps, writhing with pain as Felix carefully stepped forward and started pulling the blanket off him. His legs felt like they’d been wrapped up far too tight, feeling both numb and excruciatingly painful at the same time. 

“Can I take a look, Hyunjin-ah? Please?” Felix voice was soft and gentle, and Hyunjin barely managed to nod. Chan handed the thermometer to Han, who quickly added two and two together.

With the thermometer back in between Hyunjins chapped lips, Felix pulled back the blankets fully. He carefully lifted the cuffs of Hyunjins loose pyjama pants, freezing in action.

“Chris-" Felix’s voice caught in his throat and the silence that followed was fiercely broken by the urgent beeping of the thermometer. 

“Yeah, I’m already calling for an ambulance. Felix, take off his socks, they may be cutting off circulation.” Their leader immediately responded, lifting his phone to his ear and holding a hand to the back of his own neck. 

“39.5°C(103.1°F)” Han read aloud, looking back to Chan with panic swirling around his eyes. How had it changed so quickly? 

Hyunjin laid there, sobs dying down into quick, shallow breaths as he tried to understand what was going on around him. He could only capture a few things here and there, completely overwhelmed by the tightening pain that held his body in a lock.

When Felix removed his socks, there was an immediate relief, but it washed over him fleetingly, quickly replaced by the same sharp, stabbing pain.

Hyunjin cried out in agony, gripping onto Hans shoulder in desperation, body tense and erratic. Felix swallowed back his own tears as he assessed Hyunjins legs, all while not touching them. 

His feet looked.. weird, for the lack of a better word. Hyunjin was lean, with a naturally slender build that was only accentuated by the muscle tone he had earned as a hardworking dancer. 

His ankles in particular, were and had always been slim, a delicate shape that stood as a sharp contrast to the strength they had.

Now, Hyunjins feet didn’t even look like they belonged to him. They were puffed up unnaturally, skin stretched and flushed. The swelling was so distinct that indentations from his socks remained imprinted in his shins.

Felix frowned deeply, eyes darting from the swollen limbs to Hyunjins face, contorted in pain. His hands hovered, unsure if any touching would cause more harm than good. 

Chan paced around with the phone to his ear, rattling off information to the dispatcher with a calmness in his voice that just barely masked his own rising panic.

‘They’re on the way’ Chan mouthed to Felix when he caught his panicked eyes, who only nodded helplessly in return. 

“It’s going to be okay, help will be here soon.” Jisung murmured softly, his trembling fingers carefully carding through Hyunjins damp hair.

In the span of a few minutes, Hyunjin slipped further into a haze of delirium, the world around him breaking under the weight of pain. His eyes fluttered open and shut, unfocused and glassy. Garbled cries broke from his lip, tearless sobs that made his chest heave in uneven gasps. Feverish words tumbled out of him, disjointed and meaningless, and his grip on Jisungs hand was getting weaker. 

Hyunjin hazily caught the fleeting images of his friends moving around him, seeming to multiply. Suddenly, they morphed, first to blurry paramedics, then to nurses. 

Snippets of words floated past him in a faint echo, eerie and unfamiliar: Hypotensive, edema, AKI, crisis. He heard the faint blare of sirens and a distant mutter of ‘I’m here’ through the relentless pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Then, all at once, everything disappeared.

____________________________________

It all felt like a few seconds, like an abnormally long blink. 

When he opened his eyes again, the room around him was new. White and sterile. 

A clean, clinical smell clung to the air, and the steady buzzing from the fluorescent lights made Hyunjin hum in response. 

His gaze drifted briefly over the machines around him, taking in the thin IV lines in his arms and the monitors beating steadily at his bedside. 

Hyunjin tried to move but failed to do so, his body pinned down with exhaustion. He managed to sluggishly tilt his head to the side instead, catching sight of two familiar figures hunched over in a couple of chairs in the corner. 

Chan sat with his head in his hands, while Felix sat leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his face pale and drawn.

They were speaking in hushed tones, but then Felix's gaze suddenly moved up from the floor to meet Hyunjins. His eyes widened, making Hyunjin realise how red and teary they were. 

“Lix..” Hyunjin breathed out, just above a whisper, his throat feeling dry and scratchy.

“Hyunjin-ah.” Felix was by his side in an instant, his hand fumbling to hold onto one of Hyunjins. “You’re awake..” his voice trembled, but relief flooded his face.

Chan stood from his chair as well, shuffling over and offering up a weary smile. “I’m so glad to see you.” he said, his voice strained with emotion. Chan gently leaned in and pulled at a string that was hanging by the bed.  Hyunjin looked at him in question, and Chan chuckled weakly.

“Just letting the staff know you’re awake.. So we can get some more information, okay?” Chan gave him a sympathetic smile, but it faltered once he saw the heart rate monitor climbing unexpectedly. From 70, to 80, to 90, 95..

“Hey..” Felix said, tapping his finger lightly against the top of Hyunjins hand in an attempt to ground him. “Hyunjin-ah, it’s okay, baby, just breathe.” Felix voice was comforting and steady, anchoring him from the storm that started brewing inside his hazy mind. 

Hyunjin blinked away the tears that stung in his eyes, sucking in a hitched breath as he tried to follow his instructions. “W-what happened..?” He strained, his eyes swirling with confusion.

Chan sighed softly, again flashing a small smile in an attempt to comfort him. “You got really sick, Hyun-ah.. your muscles were-“ 

As if on cue, the door swung open. The doctor, a middle aged woman with sharp eyes and a bright coat, walked inside with a nurse trailing behind her. 

Chan stepped back to allow her to stand by the bed, but Felix stayed put by his Hyunjins side, holding his pale hand steadily in his own.

“Mr. Hwang, we are glad to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Davis, I’ve been one of the doctors attending to your case since you arrived” the doctor said. Her voice was calm and professional, but there was a trace of sympathy in her eyes as she glanced at the two members by the bed.

Hyunjins boggled mind found it hard to understand what she was saying. It was like most of his English knowledge was thrown out the door in an instant, only allowing him to understand a few words here and there. 

The others would translate for him afterwards, he was sure, so he nodded along the best he could. 

“You’ve developed something called rhabdomyolysis.” Dr. Davis explained, immediately capturing Felix’s and Chan’s full attention. She succinctly explained how the condition developed and, in Hyunjins case, how it had led to an ‘acute kidney injury’.

Hyunjin stared at her dully, mouth hung open slightly as her words traveled through his hazy brain. His eyes flickered to Felix, before he spoke up, questioning.  “a… a cute kidney?” He whispered, eyebrows drawing together in disbelief. 

Felix let out a surprised noise, somewhere between a laugh and a startled sob. He quickly covered his face, unable to hide the mix of emotions bubbling inside him. 

Rubbing his thumb over Hyunjin’s hand, Felix responded. “Mmm, not quite, Hyunjinnie. It’s ‘acute,’ not ‘cute.’” He smiled despite himself, though his eyes remained sullen.

Chan, unable to help the soft chuckle that escaped him, explained it to him in Korean. “Acute, meaning sudden… and not good, usually.”

The doctor continued when they settled, seeming unfazed by the interruption. She told him how he had been lucky, how this sort of thing could’ve been dangerous, but that they got to him in time. “Your vitals are stable, but we will have to keep you here for treatment and monitoring. We can’t know the extent of the damage until we’ve done some further testing.”

Chan stepped into the doctors line of sight once she finished talking, looking at the her with a troubled expression, as if he too was having a hard time processing it all. “So.. then.. is he going to be okay?”

The doctor didn’t confirm, nor did she deny. She looked at Chan, putting on a small smile. It looked fake, Hyunjin concluded. 

“We are going to monitor him closely, he is in very safe hands here. If you had come in any later, I wouldn’t be comfortable saying this, but since we got to him when we did.. I do believe there is a strong chance of full recovery.” 

Chans hardened expression finally cracked, and he hung his head as he let out a long exhale. “Okay.” he declared, clearing his throat and straightening his back in an attempt to regain his composure. “Thank you.”

The nurse swiftly went around the bed, checking each and every monitor that Hyunjin was attached to, before she and the doctor left with a promise to return within the hour.

There was a silence that stretched thin and uncomfortably across the room once they left. Both Felix and Bang Chan looked off in the distance with disconcerting looks on their faces. Hyunjin just stared blankly at them. 

“Uh…” Hyunjin finally mustered, his voice a mere rasp breaking through the stillness. “So… definitely no cute kidneys then..?”

Chan and Felix both snapped out of their trance, heads swiftly jerking around to look at the boy in the hospital bed. Felix chuckled a little more freely now, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he pressed a kiss to the back of Hyunjins hand. “No cute kidneys, unfortunately.” 

Chan stepped closer, giving Hyunjin a soft, dimpled smile. He seemed a little conflicted for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“.. you really scared us yesterday, Hyunjin.” Bang Chans voice sounded sullen, wavering a little. He swallowed thickly. “Please, don’t ever do that again.”

Hyunjin felt his stomach drop, heart breaking at the sorrowful tone in his hyungs voice. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll try not…. Wait- yesterday?”

“Yeah… you’ve been clonked out for a while.” Felix chimed in, smiling sympathetically as Hyunjins face went through a flurry of emotion. 

How long had he been out exactly? And.. had they stayed with him all this time? They were still wearing the same clothes, as far as he could tell. Were the others not allowed to come with? Probably not..

Chan picked up the chairs from the corner and placed them next to the bed, settling himself in one as he began to translate the information that the doctor had given them. Just the most crucial parts, simplifying it a little for Hyunjins sake.

Hyunjin was still not fully with it, but he certainly was more coherent than he had  been earlier. “Uh-huh. My kidneys are not cute at all then… probably quite ugly, actually.” he sighed, shutting his eyes. 

“It it’s any help, I don’t really think anyone’s kidneys are usually described as cute” Felix reassured him, flashing an award-winning smile. Hyunjin reciprocated it with a weak tug of his lips.

“Yeah, whether your kidneys are cute or not shouldn’t be on your lift of worries, Hyunjin-ah” Chan said, his tone soft yet serious. He reached out, his hand lightly ruffling Hyunjins hair in a comforting motion. Unlike Felix, Chan’s face didn’t hold a smile this time. His expression was sombre, reflective of the reality of the situation. Of what could’ve happened if…

“Let’s just focus on getting you better, yeah? We’ll take it day by day.. and you’ll never be alone. Not as long as we have a say in it.” Chan looked at Felix, who nodded supportively and gave Hyunjin’s hand a soft squeeze.

“Just….try to get some more rest, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

_______THE END____________

Soo, I got this idea and started writing some things about it back in December actually.. it’s been very on and off since then, and I hope it is a decent result at last😅

I’ll probably have to read through it at some later point and fix on it or something but…. I’ll let you have it now, either way✋🏽 Bon appétit

[darl-ingfics]

Feveruary Day 6: Spoon-Feeding

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: The8 (flu)

Caregiver(s): Joshua, mostly

Word Count: 908

Xu Minghao did not ask for help. He just didn’t. If he ever needed anything, he simply found a way to make it happen on his own. Why burden someone else when he was perfectly capable of managing himself? Sure, he’d accept help when it was given: if Hoshi clarified a dance move, he thanked him for it; if Jun automatically translated something for him, he appreciated it; if Mingyu offered to share a snack with him, he loved it. He thrived on the supporting hands his brothers offered to him, but only if the other party offered them freely. On principle, Xu Minghao preferred to be completely self-sufficient.

Even when he was laid up in bed with the worst flu of his life, Xu Minghao did not ask for help. 

He’d made it through two full days of rehearsal schedules and a Music Bank performance before his body gave out. Surviving on cough suppressants, tea, and the smallest amount of rice his stomach could handle, Minghao went about his day bundled up in hoodies and scarves he definitely hadn’t stolen from his members, adamantly insisting he was ‘fine, just run down,’ when asked. But during their Music Bank performance, he’d stumbled. His head went blank for a half second, the crushing reality of “God, I feel like shit” hitting him like a bullet train. Minghao was a professional, of course, and pushed on, knowing rationally his little mistake wouldn’t look like much to the audience. He pushed on through the cheers of their fans, through the hustle off stage, through the polite goodbyes to their industry colleagues and the network executives.

The second they had left the building, Minghao’s brain went dark and his legs gave out. He had no idea how they’d gotten him home; he vaguely remembered someone catching him when he’d passed out, and had flashes of memories in a doctor’s office (or was it the hospital? Or was it just the company doctor at the dorm? There had been a doctor with one of those things with the light that they shined in his eyes… that’s what Minghao remembered from the exchange, wherever it was.) 

But he did remember what happened when he’d woken up in his bed: 

Soonyoung and Seungcheol and Joshua crowded around him. Soonyoung brushing his hair back as he relayed his medical diagnosis: influenza, dehydration, stupidly high fever. Seungcheol’s voice stern and worried but his eyes sympathetic as he shared the company’s ‘diagnosis:’ no schedules until his fever was down without medication for at least 48 hours. Joshua folding him into a hug when he’d started to cry, whispering the sweet reassurances Junhei had taught him in Mandarin. 

He didn’t want to miss schedules. He didn’t want to be sick. He didn’t want to be a burden.

But that didn’t much matter. His body was in too much pain to move, his throat too sore to speak more than single word answers, his head too foggy to even make sense of what he needed. Minghao couldn’t have attended schedules despite how bad he wanted to; he could barely move his limbs without crying. Hell, he could barely THINK without crying. He felt terrible, horrible, awful. And it had only been a day, not even 24 since he’d collapsed outside Music Bank. How was he expected to just exist like this until his immune system got its act together?!

It absolutely did not help that Junhei was in China, filming a drama. Building his acting career. Following his dream. Minghao shouldn’t even think about calling him; how could he ruin his brother’s day like that? But it was getting increasingly more difficult for his brain to switch between languages.

“Haohao?” Minghao opened his eyes, his internal rant broken as he blinked up at Joshua. “Hi baby. Mind if I sit with you?” Minghao gave a single shake of his head before scooching back to make room on the bed. Joshua sat down carefully, balancing a bowl in his hands. The older man smiled, soft and warm. “Kwannie made you something to eat. It’s a recipe your mom sent us a year or so ago, one that she said you really like when you’re not feeling well.” Minghao swallowed thickly as he peered forward at the bowl. His stomach rumbled hopefully. “We also need you to have something in your stomach before the next round of meds. Think you can do that?”

Minghao nodded, not trusting his voice. He moved to sit up, the process lethargic, and somewhat painful to watch as his arms nearly gave out from under him. A frustrated tear slipped down his cheek, prompting a second one because why the hell was he even crying? 

Joshua clicked his tongue, reaching forward to brush Minghao’s sweaty hair off of his forehead, which felt so incredibly satisfying to the dancer. “Would it be okay if I fed you?” Joshua asked gently. It was at that exact moment that it clicked: Joshua had been speaking to him in Mandarin the whole time. Minghao teared up again. “It’s also perfectly fine if you want to do it yourself!” Joshua said quickly, misinterpreting the sudden tears. “I just… you look really shaky and I just thought…” 

“No, hyung,” Minghao rasped. “Please… that’s okay with me.” 

Joshua’s smile could’ve rivaled the sun. 

Xu Minghao did not ask for help. But he also could never refuse when his brothers gave it so lovingly.

[youokaybucky]

Herbal Remedy Cool Washcloth - Clegan

Little summary: Gale is very sick in the Stalag.

Word count: 820

“I need more water.”

Bucky wasn’t sure who he was giving that order to, and to be honest it didn’t matter. As long as someone obeyed. 

“Drinking water or just any water?” Someone asked hurriedly, Bucky thought it might have been Benny but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t focus on anything but Gale. Gale’s flushed skin, Gale’s sweaty forehead, Gale who’s fever had not broken overnight like the Kriegie doctor said it would. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Bucky cooled the ragged cloth in water and held it to Gale’s hot forehead and cheeks, Gale would not cool down.

“Both. Get me both.” Bucky answered, still not taking his eyes off the man lying in front of him. He heard the white basin be picked up from the floor. He was certain Gale had lost more water through sweat than Bucky could get back into him, but by God Bucky was going to try. The thin blanket covering Gale was soaked through. Bucky didn’t know whether it was worth swapping it out for another. If they were anywhere else, with unlimited supplies, he would. He’d also have medicine. Gale needed medicine so badly. 

The foul wind was attacking the sides of their hut, the only other sound apart from the odd wheeze or groan from Gale. Everyone else was shivering, the frigid air inside the hut barely different to the environment outside. 

Bucky’s knees had started to ache from the wooden floor, but he couldn’t even register it properly. He’d parked himself next to Gale’s bunk and had not moved. He’d lost count of how long he’d been kneeling there. 

“J-John.” Gale’s voice was faint, a low rasp as he blinked in Bucky’s direction. His eyelashes fluttered as he tried to keep his eyes open, but it was obvious it was a struggle. 

Bucky moved his weight forward, leaning his torso over Gale’s so if anything, Gale could physically feel his presence. It also meant he could speak without being heard. 

“I’m here, babydoll. I’m here.” Bucky grasped Gale’s limp hand, squeezing comfortingly. Bucky didn’t know who it was more of a comfort to, him or Gale.

Gale didn't speak again, although instead of letting out a groan of discomfort, Bucky heard a hum of content. Bucky squeezed Gale’s hand again, rubbing his thumb over sweaty skin. Gale’s fingers had always been long and thin, but now the bones were beginning to stick out. That was another worry of Bucky’s. Gale was skinny before he was shot down, now he was positively wasting away. Bucky had been trying to pass some of his rations to Gale at mealtimes, under the pretence he wasn't that hungry, but it was so obviously a lie. Gale saw right through it and insisted Bucky should eat even if he wasn't hungry. And now with Gale’s fever, he wasn't eating either. The fever might not even take him in the end, it might be starvation.

The sound of the door swinging open drew Bucky back from his spiral of thoughts. For the first time in a few hours he looked away from Gale’s bunk. It was Benny who had gone to fetch more water. He placed the now full basin of cold water in its place on the floor. A mug was pushed into Bucky’s hands. It was cold to the touch as well. 

“Buck, I need you to drink for me, okay?” Bucky held the ceramic edge up to Gale’s incredibly chapped lips. It took a moment for Gale to recognise there was something at his lips, but when he did a fair amount of water was able to pass them. It was the most water Gale had consumed all day. Bucky hoped that was a good sign.

When Gale no longer wanted the mug he turned his face away. Bucky dutifully placed it on the table behind him. With his free hand he reached for the washcloth again. The water Benny had fetched was cold, but not freezing, which was good. Earlier someone had had the idea to use the snow that lay outside to try and cool Gale down, but it was vetoed. It would be too much of a harsh contrast for Gale to handle. 

The material really was faded and ragged. But it did the job. Lain over Gale’s forehead, Bucky careful not to get any stray drops of water in Gale’s eyes, it looked even more pitiful. Bucky hated having to use something so awful to tend to Gale. 

This time that Bucky held cool cloth to Gale’s skin, there was finally some sense of relief that crossed Gale’s features. He seemed to relax, his eyes fully closed and body not held as tightly in pain. 

“Just stay with me, Buck. Just stay with me.” Bucky muttered, almost like a prayer.

He would nurse Gale through this. This would not be the end of Gale Cleven. 

Anna's MOTA Feveruary 2025 Masterpost

[lmao-ooooooo]

modern au wangxian where lwj keeps forgetting to answer wwx's texts and just leaves him on read often. wwx thinks its because lwj hates him but lwj does it because he looks at wwx text and gets so unimaginably happy that he gets to have such an amazing, beautiful person in his life that he ends up staring at his message without replying until wwx sends him something that brings him out of his imagination. wwx asks lwj whats wrong and lwjs too embarrassed to tell him he likes to stare at their chat very often until wwx lets it slip he thinks lwj finds him annoying or sm and lwj reacts in a very rational way by kissing the life out of him then fucking him good before actually telling him why he keeps accidentally ghosting him

[askblueandviolet]

So Violet you go kill Blue? How are you going kill him drowning, stabbing, throwing him off a cliff?

MASTER POST

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[fraternum-momentum]

its one thing to have the flu and ur body feel like completw dogshit but when ur body has recovered from the fever and that cold is still there it is equally as annoying like oh mh god

[skitskatdacat63]

Seb comes to Fernando's bedside to cheer him up! (aka resolving my turmoil over there being no vettonso moments yesterday)(long gif!!!)

+ what if Fernando hadn't been out sick!

[extravagav]

Yk I never did truly recover from the sick fic chapter

[leonardalphachurch]

@redvsbluesecretsanta for @eyeaball!

they asked for something with donut, or with kai and caboose being friends, so i kinda melded those together into this, and then the rest of blue team wanted to participate…

the formatting for this was done using @sabotourist's chatlog formatting code! ty again so much raven for helping with troubleshooting! i know usually i like to put my writing both on here and on ao3 so ppl can choose where to read it but bc of the formatting this can only be read on ao3.

[qoldenskies]

I was reading back through caged lungs and I realized just how many times Donnie got hit in the head during the last fight and how hard, no wonder Leo is concerned about brain damage.

Also, when Donnie goes to see April at the end of chapter 2, is he just dissociating really hard or is that an actual physical symptom from the…everything really!

not to mention the oxygen deprivation with raph throttling him! the last fight is so visceral and nasty and it was the final nail in the coffin when it came to donnie's issues physically and mentally, because although he would have been terrified of them regardless i dont think it wouldve been "inconsolable screaming heap at the sound of raph's voice" like it was in the early bit of CW.

and id mark that as dissociation personally. the second he registered as being in relative safety he kind of shut down because he wasn't able to process it, which had kind of been a running coping mechanism through the last month or so of CL. MIND YOU: IT IS NOT HELPED ALONG BY THE BRAIN FOG CAUSED BY HIS TIME IN ISOLATION, its a nasty concoction of problems. and also yeah physical exhaustion definitely doesnt help! he ran all the way to april's apartment while actively starving, after all.

although itll get better after [REDACTED PLOT THREAD] is handled, i think dissociation is gonna be something donnie will be dealing with for years, because spending four days in a quiet, enclosed dark space has some extremely messed up consequences for your brain and body. it was also in general something he used to cope under the abuse, so i could see him having issues with it when he's not in his right mind (sick or sleep-deprived, for example), i could see him regressing back to that old mindset when something like that happens. his perception of reality is permanently a little fucked :(

[lokh]

at what point..... should......... u see a gp for unexplained bleeding and a bit of pain on hormonal iud

[etchif]

Okay but genuinely. Why is Cats so severely hated on. I get the 2019 movie is largely what brought it back into the public conscience and thus strongly shaped the current generation's view of the show but there has to be more than that, people were hating on it even before the film came out. It almost feels like Cats (or god forbid LIKING Cats) is treated as somewhat of a musical theatre taboo. The One Show no one likes and you're not allowed to like because everyone will look at you funny, even folks who don't normally care much about musical theatre. Come on guys they're just kitty cats

Yadda yadda nice opinion did a youtuber give it to you try forming your own opinions on things without parroting other people's etc etc

[gravebadgerr]

This shit is fucking NUTS ! ok to tag as me / kin / id / etc